The Sword of Jaffar
by bobdabaron
Summary: though we take weapons to be inanimate, they may not be so, as demonstrated in this story that puts life into Jaffar's sword and provides insight into its previous history...


Once there was, amid every other, a sword. In contrast to all the garish and broadly decorative show swords used by the royalty across the globe, it was rather plain, a bit stained, nothing extraordinary, save for that it never really seemed to become decrepit with age, and that it always seemed to fall into wicked hands. It had originally been made by a Vizier who was an enemy within—speaking in accents familiar to his victims, yet working in the night to undermine the pillars of his society. He was often successful in his treachery, and in exercising immense precaution, was never suspected. Eventually, though, a powerful king and his party were passing through the Vizier's kingdom of Bedrham, and his natural inclination tempted him to provoke war between this new and his own party. The king's son, however, at one momentary glance, saw the Vizier for who he was: a wretched villain. The Vizier had seen the Prince look at him strangely, and saw this that might be a threat of unraveling to his ingenuous plan. When the Prince had tried to warn the kingdom of the danger of the Vizier's plans, he was ambushed by the one of whom he had spoken. Both were masters of the art of fighting, and fierce battles took place throughout an obscure labyrinth of Bedhram's chambers. Eventually, though, the Prince triumphed, and the Vizier perished. He thought no more of him, for the Vizier truly was dead, but less suspected was that his weapon might still be a risk to him. Life moved on.

The Prince, after bearing a son and becoming King, was eventually conquered as always happens, and Bedrham vanished also, to be replaced by another land of which scarcely anything is now known. This new kingdom also had what seems to be more and more common: a foreign-minded Vizier. The opponent always has power, but never full power, and this so was the case yet again. In a chance worthy of wonder, Jaffar, while strolling through the ruins of the last and forgotten land, came across the remains of a man—a few bones, and a sword in them. He was drawn to this blade, and undoubtedly it was drawn to him as well. As he retrieved it, he was shocked. He felt the previous owner, and it seemed to be him. It was not, but he still shivered with déjà vu. He immediately set aside his old staff in favor of this, returned, and set to work on his lessons in enchantment. He was trying to win the heart of the King's daughter, but not succeeding, because a pauper from the streets had stolen into the gardens and won her in all but name, utterly under his nose. Upon finding this out, he was enraged, and imprisoned both the Princess and the vagabond from the streets. This thief escaped, however, and through skill, strength, and caution, found his way to Jaffar. In another epic fight, Jaffar fought bravely as a rogue can, but for the first time, was defeated. This marked the second vanquish of the owner of this sword.

Jaffar was not quite dead, and still had enough strength to transport himself with the use of magic to his sanctuary separate from the palace in another temple; it was owned by a religious sect who had mistaken him for a deity, and he was welcome there. The sword ended up being lost in that castle, as Jaffar returned and disguised himself as the Prince, and the Prince as a slave. The authentic Prince once again had to flee, and embarked on a long and arduous journey for redemption. Along his way, he found a castle discernibly in disorder, and had to fight many ghosts of the heads of slain enemies. Some way into the castle, he found a sword lying on the ground nearby a heap of bones. As it seemed stronger than his own, despite its extensive deferment in this place, in good form he replaced his own with this new one. As he salvaged it, he collapsed, awake but not in control of movement. He had a vision: this palace belonged to his father who he had never known; the blade he held had belonged to his father. With this encouragement, he proceeded on to a bizarre temple which he found to be inhabited by some cult wearing on their heads extraordinarily large eagle masks. Though they were skilled warriors, he still managed to fight his way through them. Traversing deeper and deeper into the abysses and corridors, he eventually came upon yet another sword. It intrigued him, so he approached it. As he did, this new blade burst into flame, rose off of the ground and into the air, and began to attack him as a marionette controlled by an impalpable assailant. Although quite shocked, he fought it, but seeing no way to win, as it could not suffer damage, ran off until it ceased to follow.

He did not notice that it was the same sword used by the man he thought he had killed, and never knew that it had also been used by Jaffar's predecessor against his own father. However, it had seen the sword he held, and recognized his as his father's—the one that had vanquished it so long ago. Enraged, it had fought back, and was thwarted once again. Jaffar had by this point become so skilled in magic that he had no need of a weapon, and it was left abandoned in the temple. Eventually the Prince had found his way out of the holy place and had hunted down and killed Jaffar. Jaffar's old sword still lay in the castle until it was added to the repertoire of the few remaining templemen as they embarked on a raid of another land in the sky. It was then abandoned as the holder was killed, and had a new waiting site.

Soon after regaining honor and glory, the Prince was tricked by the Sultan's brother Hassan and locked up, with his beloved Princess forced to marry Hassan's hideous son, Rugnor. He broke out of his cell and started another journey to save the Princess (who seemed to be not trying very hard to avoid capture). He wound up on a dirigible, and after fighting with Rugnor, fell off, fortunately into water. He assessed the area and upon looking down, saw that it was the remains of a castle in the sky. He carefully navigated the ruins, battling genies along the way. After solving an intricate puzzle that involved replacing a gem eye into a huge statue, he chanced upon a sword in a pile of bones. Bones seemed to be the only places in which he found weapons, these days. Yet after numerous encounters, he finally caught a glimmer of recognition of this particular one. He saw it not as the flaming sword from the temple, but at least as that with which Jaffar had fought him. As he had no other weapon than his staff, he sheathed this that had done him so much pain with a bitterly cynical chuckle. He escaped the ruins, warred through mountains and temples, and located Rugnor and killed him with this same sword. He then returned to his Kingdom to rule.

For all his mastery of the art of war, and his stealth and skill with acrobatics that proved so useful throughout his life, he was not all that wise, and kept his knowledge of the origin of his new sword hidden. If he had thought to reveal this, someone might have gathered that after so many defeats, such a weapon might WANT to be found by its defeator. Fate has its ironies, and one large one is that inanimate objects, though we consider to be inert, might actually have some vestige of life, and might have some trace of intelligence. That sword had realized its evil, and desired not to rewrite its past, for such was impossible, but to start a new history and attempt to atone for previous misdeeds. It was trying to become righteous.

_Famous quote: "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em."_


End file.
